Closure
by Wassermagierin
Summary: “You are dying, Lorlen.” There was no need for Akkarin to tell him that. He had already realized it, accepted it; there was nothing left to do but this...He was in need of closure, but so was Akkarin. He could not leave without giving it to him.


It has been a rather long time since I read the Black Magician Trilogy, but I stumbled across some fanfiction a few days ago and it made me reread some of my favourite scenes. This is the result. I roughly remember crying when Lorlen died, but I've always been haunted by the feeling that the book left a lot of Lorlen and Akkarin's feelings up to imagination. Not having been a friend of romance (I haven't improved much), the relationship of Sonea and Akkarin had never fascinated me, and definitely not in the way the friendship between Akkarin and Lorlen did. I certainly hope you like the result, and yes, I know I should be working on my other story…

Disclaimer: Trudi Canavan owns everything. Do you honestly think I would have let so many great characters die if _I_ did?

He couldn't move. Something was pressing him into the ground, stealing his breath.

'_The ceiling,'_ he guessed. _'It must have caved in…'_ His senses were returning slowly; he could hear his own ragged breathing, smell the dust around him…

Then he became aware of the pain.

It spread through his whole body; slow but searing, and had he had the energy, he might have screamed. He sent his mind inward and his already unsteady breath hitched as he took in the broken bones and ruptured organs. He instantly knew what it would mean, but he wasn't afraid. Acceptance was spreading through him and he almost surrendered to the darkness that was calling him when a face flashed through his mind.

There was one last thing he had to do.

Slowly, far too slowly, his hand etched towards the ring in his pocket. Dust and dirt cascaded around him, but he knew he couldn't stop. He had to see him one last time, had to tell him…

He reached the ring.

He knew no words would be needed; he had been forced to wear it long enough to know its purpose, and so he started concentrating on the sounds around him.

He could hear Osen's voice faintly, and the sound of stone shifting. Relief flooded through him; at least _he_ was alive. He had pushed Osen away from him by instinct, and now he was glad he did. The Guild would need him once…

When would he be there? He knew he couldn't hold on for much longer; his energy was already alarmingly low, but he had to hold on.

Suddenly the rubble was being lifted off of him, and he could finally feel his presence through the ring. He slowly raised his head; the light was blinding him, but it didn't matter. His eyes searched the now visible area around him, absently taking in the presence of Lord Osen and Dannyl, until he spotted the dark figure silhouetted against the bright light from outside.

"You came back" His voice was weak, but the emotions he could not express with words he tried to send through the ring, hoping they would reach him.

"Yes. I came back." The voice no longer was accompanied by the sharp, commanding presence he was used to, and for the first time in years, he did not look at the High Lord or any of his masks, but Akkarin, the Akkarin he had befriended as a novice, the one he trusted with his life…

Then Akkarin stepped forward and he realized what he was planning to do.

"No!" he called, warningly. "Don't come…any closer."

Akkarin stopped.

"You are dying, Lorlen." There was no need for Akkarin to tell him that. He had already realized it, accepted it; there was nothing left to do but this.

"I know." His breathing was laboured, proof of Akkarin's claim, and he was sure part of it was due to a punctured lung, but his resolve was strong and he knew he could not waver. "I won't…I won't have you waste your power on me."

Akkarin took another step. "But it—"He would not let him finish, however. Akkarin needed to understand that there was nothing he could do.

If there was even the slightest chance that his death could allow Akkarin to stop the Ichani, then he would accept death with open arms.

"Stop. Or I'll be dead before you can reach me," he gasped, warningly. "Just a little power left, keeping me conscious. All I have to do is use it up faster."

"Lorlen," Akkarin tried again. "It would only take a little magic. Just enough to keep you alive until—"

"Until the Ichani come to finish me off," he stated. _'I am dying, Akkarin, not losing lucidity. Not yet.'_ He knew now that Akkarin would receive every single thought. He closed his eyes, recalling the internal damage his mind had picked up.

"I was a Healer, remember. I know what it would take to fix me. Too much magic. You will need everything to stop them." _'And if the cost is my life, then so be it'_ He opened his eyes again.

He was in need of closure, but so was Akkarin. He could not leave without giving it to him.

"I understand why you did it." His voice is even softer now. "Why you lied to me" The bitterness had faded into acceptance, and it soothed him. This was how he wanted his last moments to be. "Kyralia's safety was more important than our friendship. It still is." _'And it is more important than my life'_ he adds silently, to remind Akkarin of his responsibility.

"I only want to know one thing. Why didn't you answer when I called you?"

"I couldn't," Akkarin said. "If the Guild knew I was here, the Ichani would read it from the mind of their first victim. They would stay together. Alone, they are vulnerable." That was enough for him. His only remaining concern had been answered.

"Ah," he said, and a faint smile spread across his lips. "I see." He could feel his energy leaving him. He closed his eyes again, but they fluttered open as Akkarin tried to approach him once more.

"No you don't," he whispered, black spots starting to spread in front of his eyes. "Stay there. Tell me…tell me about Sonea."

"She is alive," Akkarin said. "She is…"

He did not finish the sentence, but opened his mind enough for him to feel the powerful mix of emotions that raged through Akkarin when thinking of her. He realized that it had been her who had broken down the masks and barriers that had separated the High Lord from Akkarin, and he wished he could thank her for it.

With the last of his strength, he summoned up every memory he could; sitting in the library together; sneaking out at night to the spring in the forest; his worry for Akkarin when he stopped sending messages during his travels; his relief when he returned, dirty, tired, but _alive_; the utter hurt and feelings of betrayal when Akkarin had forcibly read his mind…he did not keep anything hidden, opened his mind completely.

"Good," he whispered, and, the memories still flowing through his mind, he surrendered to the darkness.

'Goodbye, my friend'

Urgh, I certainly hope I just didn't ruin a perfectly good scene with this…I'm actually happy with this, but I never know what others think of it…so tell me? Just a little review? If there's something wrong with it, I'd love some constructive criticism…

Started and finished: 27th November 2009


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